


Victor and Brad go on a date

by Margot_Lescargot



Category: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Trans Character, First Date, Fluff, M/M, POV Brad Smith, Spoilers for False Value, Trans Male Character, includes brief scene of (unintended) misgendering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25182061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Margot_Lescargot/pseuds/Margot_Lescargot
Summary: Hi BradThis is Victor.  We met at SSC last week and you gave me your number, if you remember.I said I would show you London, so…Let me know if you want to meet up sometime.Victor
Relationships: Victor (False Value)/Brad Smith
Comments: 7
Kudos: 20





	Victor and Brad go on a date

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shereshoyad (birdylion)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdylion/gifts).



Hi Brad  
This is Victor. We met at SSC last week and you gave me your number, if you remember.   
I said I would show you London, so…  
Let me know if you want to meet up sometime.  
Victor

Hey Victor  
Of course I remember you. I’m glad you got in touch. But things are… a little fucked-up here rn. I’m not totally sure when I’ll be free.  
Can I message you in a few days?  
Brad

Yeah, cool. Of course.  
Victor

Hey Victor  
Sorry to go off-grid like that, but you know how things have been (?)  
I’m around Saturday if your offer still stands?  
Brad

Hi Brad  
Yeah, sure. Saturday? I’ll check if I’m free and get back to you.  
Victor

Brad  
Yeah, I’ve moved some things around and Saturday’s ok for me. What time?  
Victor

Victor, I’m in your hands, dude. Say the word.  
B

There’s a bowling place which is pretty central, and is supposed to be ok – I thought we could try that? I’ll send you the link. 7.30?   
V

Totally. Thanks. See you out front?  
Looking forward to it.  
B

Yeah. See you there.  
V

And me too.  
V

*

‘Hello?’

‘Hey Mom.’

‘Bradley! How are you?’

‘Yeah, ok thanks. How are you?’

‘Oh, fine, fine. The weather hasn’t been great and the first crop was looking a little shaky for a while, but it’s early yet, I think we’ll pull through.’

‘That’s good. And how’s Cady?’

‘She’s fine also, we’ve been pretty quiet here actually. How is London?’

‘Yeah, good. Cold, wet. The usual.’

‘Uh-huh. You seen anything other than the inside of your boss’ office yet?’

Brad shrugged. ‘Not so much.’ He paused. ‘But I met someone who says they’ll show me around a little.’

‘Oh that’s good, that you’re making friends. And you should see what you can while you’re there, right?’

‘Sure, sure.’

‘And how is “Ms” Rain?’ 

Brad rolled his eyes. ‘Mom, I can practically hear the airquotes. And she, um, well, she quit her job.’

‘She did?’

‘Yeah, that’s partly why I’m calling I guess. I’m not totally sure what’s gonna happen here, so I might be back sooner than we thought. I really don’t know.’

‘Well that’s ok, honey. You know we’ll be glad to see you whenever you can make it.’

‘I know, Mom, thanks. Hey, can I speak to Cady?’

‘Sure, hon, I’ll call her.’

He heard his mom call for his step-mom and then come back to the receiver.

‘You take care, honey. And get on an airplane when you need to, ok?’

‘Ok Mom. I love you.’

‘I love you too, sweetie. Here’s Cady now. Bye Bradley.’

‘Bye Mom.’

He heard the phone get handed over.

‘Hey Braddie! How’s it hanging?’

‘Good, good. How are you?’

‘Oh we’re fine. Your mom told you about the crop?’

‘Yeah, she did. I’m sure it’ll be ok, though.’

‘Oh, sure. And did she tell you about the chanting?’

‘What? No.’

‘Oh yeah, so she’s started chanting with the sunrise every morning in the yard - or maybe at it, I’m not sure. But it is _loud_. I’m just waiting for the neighbours to start complaining.’

‘Oh my god!’

‘I know, right. But we love her.’ He could hear the smile in her voice.

‘Yeah. We do.’

There was a pause. ‘So, Braddie-boy. You’re fine, we’re fine. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?’

‘Hey! Can’t I just want to talk to my step-mom?’

‘Well sure, Braddie. And yet… I get the feeling there’s more.’

‘Ok, ok.’ He cleared his throat. ‘So, I met a guy.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘At work. Not security, I mean. He works in the same building.’

He could hear Cady waiting for more.

‘He’s like… I mean, he reminds me of Miles. You remember?’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘So, I dunno, I guess.’

‘Wait, honey. You mean he’s like Miles?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Ok. So… is that gonna be an issue?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘Do you like him?’

Brad smiled. ‘Yeah. Yeah I do.’

‘So..’ Brad could sense her shrugging and had a sudden mental image of her, standing by the wall in the kitchen, in her gardening clothes, the early spring sunshine filtering through the open doorway behind her. ‘..what, then? You gonna go on a date with this guy?’

‘He’s asked me, so yeah. I was planning to.’

‘Ok, well that’s great. Go on a date, have fun. And don’t overthink it.’

‘Yeah... Yeah, you’re right. Thanks Cady.’

‘And don’t worry, I won’t mention it to your mom.’

‘ _Thanks_ Cady. You know how she gets.’

‘No problem, Braddie.’

‘And hey, how’s my boy?’

‘He’s good. He’s playing in the yard right now. You want me to go get him?’

‘Yeah. I’d like to speak to him.’

He heard her put down the phone, and call out ‘Jean-Ralphio! Jean-Ralphio! Come here! Daddy’s on the phone,’ and then two sets of footsteps approaching.

‘Here he is,’ said Cady.

‘Hey buddy. Hey Jean-Ralphio. It’s Daddy. How are you? How’s my good boy?’

He heard snuffles, followed by a couple of short excited barks.

‘Yeah, buddy. It’s Daddy. Have you been a good boy?’

More excited yapping.

‘Good boy. That’s a good boy, Jean-Ralphio. I’ll see you real soon.’

He heard Cady put Jean-Ralphio down, and then his claws pattering on the kitchen floor as he went back into the garden.

‘Has he been ok?’

‘Yeah, totally. But he misses you I think.’

‘Yeah, I know. I miss him. But, like I was saying to Mom, I think things might wrap up here pretty soon. I’ll let you know.’

‘You know you and Jean-Ralphio are welcome here whenever.’

‘I know. Thanks Cady.’

‘And let me know how your date goes ok?’

‘Sure thing. Bye Cady. Kiss Jean-Ralphio for me.’

‘Will do. Bye Braddie. Take care. I love you.’

‘Love you. Bye.’

*

Brad stepped out of the station and pulled his scarf tighter around his neck against the wind. The sun had set a couple hours previously, but he’d memorised the route to the address Victor had sent, so he shoved his hands deep in his pockets, and set off at a fast pace. As he rounded the corner of Bedford Way, he spotted Victor, leaning against the railings of a large white building in a studiedly nonchalant manner. He smiled. Yup. Still as attractive as he remembered.

He pulled up in front of him. ‘Hey Victor.’

‘Oh hi, Brad.’

‘You ok?’ He stooped to peck him on the cheek and was delighted to see him colour slightly.

‘Yeah. Um,’ he cleared his throat. ‘Shall we go in?’

‘Totally. This wind is arctic.’

Victor led them down a flight of steps to the basement, saying ‘I hope this is ok. I thought bowling would be good because...’

As they entered a large basement room, Brad saw that the entire footprint of the building had been converted into a bowling alley, fitted out with several lanes and a fifties drugstore-style bar, all chrome and red and white plastic and high stools. He had a brief professional reflex, thinking that a single huge room such as this would be impossible to cover adequately with anything less than half a dozen people, not to mention a low ceiling which could totally fuck them in terms of ricochet. Then he remembered he was on a date, not at work, and shook his head briefly to clear it. He saw Victor looking at him expectantly.

‘Victor. Sorry, dude. I just got distracted momentarily. My bad. What was that you were saying?’

‘Just that, um, bowling is American.’

‘And you brought me here because I’m American…?’

‘Well, yeah.’

‘Ok, well that was thoughtful. I mean, you did promise to show me London, but…’

Victor blanched. ‘Oh shit. Sorry. I thought- Do you want to go somewhere else?’

‘Hey, no. I’m kidding.’ He put a reassuring hand on Victor’s arm. ‘This is great. In fact, I seriously can’t remember the last time I went bowling, so really, it’s all good. Shall we get a drink?’

‘Yeah,’ said Victor fervently, and made a beeline for the bar.

Brad ordered a White Russian, because how could he not. Victor did the same, with a knowing twinkle, which was already making him think up ways of how he could make it appear again.

The stools were all taken so they stood at a high table and clinked glasses.

‘Cheers, Victor.’

‘Cheers.’

‘So-‘

‘So-‘

‘Sorry. After you.’

‘Yeah, so I booked a lane for eight o’clock, but because there’s only two of us, and it’s a Saturday night, we might have to share. Is that gonna be ok?’

‘Sure, cool.’

‘What were you going to say?’ said Victor taking a sip of his drink.

‘Well I was actually gonna ask how work has been for you this past week?’

Victor blew out a breath. ‘Bloody weird. Noone knows what’s happening with Skinner and the company. Do you?’ he asked hopefully.

‘Sorry, dude. I don’t know any more than you do. Ms Rain has quit. My contract is with the company, so I’m still, like, here with the other guys. But there’s not too much for us to do if we’re not personal detail-‘

‘Personal detail?’

‘Oh, like guarding Mr Skinner personally. You know, like at his home and such. That was Ms Rain’s job. The rest of us were just general security at work and kinda back up for when he was travelling, that sort of thing. Like I say, we’re still here, but none of us really know for how much longer.’ He shrugged and took a drink himself.

‘How did you get into it?’

‘What?’

‘Security. Whatever it is you call what you do.’

‘Oh that. I don’t know. The surfing gigs kinda dried up – I did body double work for a while.’

‘ _Really_?’ Victor’s eyes shone. ‘On what?’

Brad laughed. ‘Oh, nothing you would have seen. Strictly direct to streaming service. And then this guy I’d worked with on sets a couple times said this outfit called Total Executive Cover were always looking for people - they took on a lot of stuntmen he said. And I didn’t have anything else lined up, so,’ he shrugged, ‘here I am.’

‘But you get to travel. It must be exciting.’

‘Well I don’t know that I’d say that. I mean, it pays ok, but I go where my boss goes, you know. That’s the job.’

‘But he goes to some pretty bloody nice places I’ll bet. You didn’t get that suntan anywhere round here in the last few months.’

Brad looked down at his arms and grinned ruefully. ‘No, that’s true. I got to be second for Ms Rain over Christmas and new year, so, like, um, Necker Island and then some rich guy’s yacht. But it was actually pretty boring.’

‘Yeah, that sounds terrible. I spent Christmas in a semi-detached in Portishead with my parents and my nan and her ancient farting dog. I mean I absolutely got the better deal there. You don’t need to say any more.’

Brad laughed again. ‘No. I mean it. The weather’s good, sure, but even the biggest yachts are only so big, you can’t leave or… socialise or anything. And there’s, like, minimal threat in the middle of the ocean, so nothing to do, and yacht-guy had his own detail - who by the way were no fucking fun at all - and so, yeah, not really that great.’

‘Hmmm,’ said Victor, unconvinced.

‘But after that,’ said Brad, ‘things did get better.’

‘Better than a yacht in the Caribbean? How so?’

‘Well Mr Skinner came here, so I did as well.’

‘London in January? Better? This must be a million times worse – just the weather for one thing.’

Brad shrugged. ‘Yeah, the weather’s not great. But being here has its compensations.’

‘Oh yeah? Like what?’

‘Like you. Meeting you, I mean.’

Victor blushed but said nothing.

There was a pause. What the hell, he thought. What harm was there in telling him? ‘I’d seen you around SSC before you know. Before that day on the top floor.’

‘Yeah?’ Victor leaned forward with interest.

‘Oh sure. A few times. I saw you with the big guy – what’s his name?’

‘Everest?’

‘Is that it? Yeah. I saw you in the Cage with him one time – I was on walkway duty - when some lanky white guy was trying to do him down. I saw you take his side, stand up for him. And I thought – then – I need to get to know that guy better.’

‘Really?’ Victor considered. ‘But that would’ve just been Princeton being a dick probably. It’s not exactly unusual.’

‘Sure, sure. But you stood by your friend. You put – how does it go? – oh yeah, you put your head above the parapet to defend him. I saw that. And, like I say, I wanted to meet you.’ He smiled mischievously. ‘Why else do you think I got Ms Rain to depute me to the top floor that day? I knew you were gonna be up there.’

‘ _What_?’

Brad winked and raised his glass in salute.

‘But.. why…’ Victor had started to colour again he noticed. It really was the darndest thing.

‘Why what?’

‘When we were up in Bambleweeny-‘ Victor must have seen his puzzled expression. ‘…on the top floor then, why didn’t you say anything? Why did you wait for me..’

‘Peter.’

‘Alright, fine. Why did you wait for Peter to make the first move?’

‘Why didn’t I approach you, you mean?’ Victor nodded bashfully. ‘Dude, I thought you and Everest were together.’

Victor almost did a classic spit-take. ‘What? You thought me and Everest were _a_ _couple_?’

Brad spread his hands. ‘Yeah, ok, but how was I to know? And,’ he added half-indignantly, ‘you guys always seemed so tight. And then I got to the top floor and you spent, like, the entire time hunkered down with him. And he kept giving me these looks all morning..’

‘Oh yeah. Ok, that’s fair. But that was just him being protective. We look out for each other.’

Brad smiled warmly. ‘Well that’s a good thing. You got each others’ backs.’ He finished his drink. ‘And, hey, we got there in the end.’

‘We did,’ said Victor, smiling back. He glanced at his watch. ‘Oh shit. It’s nearly eight. We need to claim our lane.’

‘Ok. I’ll grab a couple beers and come find you,’ he said and without thinking bent to place a quick kiss on Victor’s cheek.

Their bowling partners turned out to be a young man of the lumbersexual type, and a tiny white woman wearing an ironic sweatshirt over a floral dress and wire-rimmed glasses. After muttering a hello, they said barely a word, even to each other, spending almost the entire time scrolling through and tapping into their cellphones, and showing only the most perfunctory interest in the bowling.

Halfway through the fifth or so frame, and as the couple’s behaviour showed no sign of changing, Brad said into Victor’s ear ‘What do you think they’re doing?’

Victor eyed then. ‘I’m not sure. I think they might be on a date.’

‘Jesus, really?’ Brad gave a crack of laughter. ‘That’s a date? They don’t seem to be having much fun.’ He raised his voice and addressed them. ‘Hey guys! Wanna party when we’re done here?’

‘ _Brad_!’ Victor elbowed him in the ribs, but the others merely looked up briefly, brows furrowed, then turned back to their screens.

  
In the break between games, the couple excused themselves separately to do - or post most likely - who knows what, and he stayed to guard the lane with Victor, who scooted to the bar, returning with two more beers. 

‘That was fast,’ he said as Victor handed one to him. ‘I’m impressed.’

‘No flies on me,’ said Victor with a grin. ‘Cheers.’

‘Cheers.’ 

‘I don’t think you properly finished telling me what you do,’ said Victor, after a pause.

He shrugged. ‘Not much more to tell. I gotta say, I’m not sure it represents, like, my life-long career aspirations. For one thing, I keep forgetting the alias.’

‘Alias? What do you mean, alias?’

‘Oh right. Yeah, um, my name isn’t really Smith.’

‘What?’

‘Yeah, it’s like part of some extra layer of security bullshit.’

‘Hold on. They told you that you had to change your name, so you changed it to _Smith_?’ said Victor incredulously.

‘Dude, it was supposed to be inconspicuous! And anyway I added “the III” for, like, interest.’

Victor still looked pretty taken aback. ‘What is your name then? Is it even Brad?’

‘Oh yeah. The Bradley Michael is me. It’s only that my last name is really Logan.’

‘Brad Logan,’ Victor considered it for a moment and then smiled. ‘Ok, yeah, I can see that.’ He furrowed his brow. ‘But hold on, though, why are you telling me? Aren’t you supposed to be guarding us, or watching us, or something?’

‘Uh, sure, I guess,’ he shrugged. ‘But I reckon I can trust you. You have an honest face.’

‘Do I?’

‘Well, you have a nice face.’

He grinned, as he saw Victor struggle for composure, finally managing to get out a ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’ He leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘I like it anyway.’

At which point, inevitably, the annoying couple returned.

  
After losing both games 239 to 170 and 230 to 154 – gallingly, the Nick Offerman wannabe had a deadly strike hand – they shook hands with their uninterested opponents and headed by mutual agreement back towards the bar. The room was getting busier, and Brad was edging his way in front when an exclamation behind him made him spin around reflexively. He saw a stocky white man in his thirties, wearing a Japanese-print Star Wars t-shirt and carrying three plastic pint glasses of beer in his hands, stop and look down at Victor, with whom he’d clearly just collided, if the wet patch on Victor’s sleeve was anything to go by.

‘Whoops! Sorry, love,’ said the man amiably, and continued on his way. Victor was ashen and rooted to the spot, but after a second, he recovered and walked towards Brad.

‘Hey,’ he asked gently, taking Victor by the arm. ‘Are you ok?’

‘Yeah,’ Victor took a deep breath. ‘Yeah, it’s fine.’

‘Do you want me to do anything?’

‘No! No, I mean, it’s ok. He didn’t.. It’s just..’ He sighed.

‘Yeah, I get it.’ Brad leant in. ‘But it doesn’t mean I can’t bounce him from one side of this room to the other if you want me to, though. Just say the word.’ He raised an eyebrow.

Victor gave a small smile. ‘No it’s ok. Maybe next time.’

Brad made a show of flexing his biceps and grinned. ‘For sure. Whatever you need.’ He was rewarded by a broader, happier smile from Victor and – if he felt like flattering himself, which he did – a definite look of appreciation.

‘Shall we get out of here? Find somewhere else? You could show me some of the London that you promised me. I mean, it’s getting late, but I think you owe me, after inviting me on a date under false pretences and all.’

‘False pr-? What!?’ spluttered Victor. But Brad could see he was still smiling.

Brad bent over him, and pressed his lips once more to Victor’s cheek, and this time he lingered long enough to be able to feel the rosy warmth bloom beneath them, then he moved his mouth an inch or so to the right. ‘I think you’re great,’ he whispered in Victor’s ear, then straightened, smiled and ushered a beaming Victor towards the exit.  
  


‘Ok, so where to?’ he said, once they were outside again.

Victor looked thoughtful. ‘Well, there’s Soho, I suppose. But it’ll be full of tourists. Or we could head over to Old Street actually. Someone at work mentioned a new bar which is supposed to be really cool. Like a surf-tiki place or something.’

‘Ok. Sounds equally un-London. Let’s go,’ said Brad, and then ‘Ow!’ as Victor punched him in the arm.

‘What I was _going_ to say is there are enough other places to go around there, if we can’t find it I mean. And also, I can catch a bus straight up to Wood Green from there, so..’

‘So, what are we waiting for? Lead on.’

Brad, consulting the map in his head, wasn’t entirely convinced they were going the most direct route towards Holborn to catch a bus to Old Street, but what the hell - he glanced sideways at Victor, who was gesticulating as he explained something - he was enjoying the ride. However fucking cold the wind was, as it whistled through the grand empty squares of Bloomsbury, he still felt warmer than he had since he’d left California.

‘… and you know where they got them from, don’t you?’

‘No, where?’

‘Well that’s the thing you see, they...’

Victor’s passion for his subject – a whole bunch of subjects it seemed – was infectious and just the range of stuff he could talk about, and with authority, was pretty impressive. Currently he was expounding on the provenance and housing of the collections of the British Museum, the rear façade of which they were then - somewhat improbably – passing.

‘I actually haven’t been in there yet,’ admitted Brad. ‘Maybe you could show me sometime? I mean, it will be perfect for you. Nothing to do with London.’

‘Oh ha ha,’ said Victor, then smiled shyly before adding, ‘But, yeah, I could do that.’

He smiled back and felt warmer still. ‘Great.’

  
As they found themselves walking along the south side of Russell Square, Brad noticed, as a matter of course, the navy blue Audi pulling up sharply and parking in front of them, and neither of them could help notice the size of the man who got out of the car, futzing with an overnight bag and a bouquet of flowers as he wrestled with his car keys. The flowers dropped to the floor, and a loud ‘Fuck!’ rent the air. Brad, who was close enough by then, and trying to remind himself that he wasn’t on duty and this wasn’t a set-up, picked them up and handed them back to the enormous man.

‘Cheers,’ he said and, having flicked on his car alarm, went up the steps to the imposing house he’d parked in front of.

‘A little late to arrive with flowers, isn’t it?’ hissed Brad in Victor’s ear. ‘What do you think? Wronged wife? or mistress?’

‘I dunno,’ whispered Victor. ‘Shall we stay and watch?’

They loitered, Brad pulling out his phone as if they were checking directions, casting covert looks back to the large house. They saw the front door open, without the man having to knock, and a tall pale woman stand to welcome him on the threshold. He handed the flowers to her, which she took with a shy smile, and then passed into the house, the door closing behind them.

‘A-ha!’ said Victor, turning to Brad. ‘A romantic tryst.’

‘“Tryst”’ he repeated. ‘Excellent word! Yeah. _Definitely_ a tryst.’ He took a breath. ‘Speaking of which,’ he turned Victor fully towards him. In the sodium glare of the streetlights, Victor’s eyes were bright. There was no one else on the street. Their breaths plumed a little in the night air as Brad took hold of Victor’s hands and pulled him closer.

‘Is this ok?’ he murmured.

Victor nodded and angled his chin upward a fraction.

His heart beat a little faster as he bent his head and gently pressed his mouth against Victor’s. For a moment, the traffic noise ceased, the bite of the east wind receded and all that he was aware of, all his entire being was centred on, in that time, was nothing but the softness and warmth of Victor’s lips beneath his.

After a few seconds, no more, he lifted his head again. Victor opened his eyes slowly and grinned up at him, and he felt his own lips curving into a smile.

‘Sorry, but I’ve been wanting to do that all evening.’ He released his hold on Victor’s hands. ‘Come on. I think it’s this way.’

  
Half an hour later, they were wandering the labyrinth of small roads south of Great Eastern Street, home of bars so zeitgeisty, Brad noted wryly, that they sometimes didn’t last out the month. Brad knew the area pretty well by now. It was close to the SSC building and to the apartments he and the other TEC guys were lodged in, but he didn’t say so to Victor, who was leading them a second time down Ravey Street.

‘I was sure it was supposed to be down here.’

Brad shrugged. ‘I don’t think it is Victor.’

‘Hmmm. I could text Dennis. It was supposed to be really good.’

‘Dude, I really don’t mind if we call it. It’s getting pretty cold.’

Victor looked woebegone. ‘Sorry. I was just trying to show you a bit of genuine East London nightlife. After messing up with the bowling earlier.’

‘Hey, hey,’ Brad took hold of Victor’s hands. ‘There was no mess up. I enjoyed the bowling, I had fun. But I came out tonight because I wanted to spend time with _you_. I honestly don’t care where we go. Ok?’

Victor looked reassured. He nodded. ‘Ok.’

‘But. I _am_ freezing my nuts off here and I’m actually pretty hungry. How about you?’

‘Yeah. Yeah I am, now you mention it.’

‘Ok, shall we just find somewhere to eat then? How are you for time?’

Victor looked at his watch. ‘Fine. I’ve got a while yet. My last bus goes just after one. Thing is,’ he held up his watch so Brad could see it, ‘everywhere that does food will be either rammed or closing by this time.’

He watched Victor’s brow wrinkle in thought and he repressed the urge to reach out and smooth the lines away.

‘We could…’ Victor began to say, then shook his head. ‘No, it’s a terrible idea.’

‘What is? Sorry, Victor, but it can’t be worse than standing here getting colder. What’s your idea?’

‘Weeell,’ said Victor. ‘We could go into the office. I mean, there’s a ton of vending machines, and the ones in the Cage aren’t bad. They get re-stocked for the all-nighters too-‘

‘Sold.’ Brad grabbed Victor by the arm and started walking before he’d finished speaking. ‘Do you have your ID card?’

Victor patted his pocket. ‘Always.’

‘Then what are we waiting for?’

  
Five minutes later then were swiping through the barriers in the SSC foyer. As a green light flashed up for each of them, the tall Sierra Leonean man behind the security desk gave them barely a glance. In other circumstances that might have given Brad slight cause for concern, but he wasn’t here for that tonight.

In the Cage, the lighting was dimmed, the network of lights hanging abstractly from the roof of the atrium were switched off and only the artfully curved recesses above the machines and the lockers were softly uplit. A quick look around confirmed that no one else was present.

Brad wandered over to survey the ranks of vending machines. ‘I’ve never eaten anything from here. It looks, uh, eclectic,’ he said and was rewarded by an approving look from Victor. ‘So, what’s good?’

He watched indulgently as Victor ran through the relative merits of each of the foods on offer, primarily, it seemed, by utilising some arcane scoring system of Everest’s devising. Inevitably they chose pizza, and after the cranks and whirs of the machine had delivered one for each for them, took them to eat at one of the strangely shaped sofas in a corner of the room. The pizza was surprisingly good. He realised how hungry he was, and, from his silence, it seemed the same for Victor. They ended up sharing another pizza, then experimented with the ice cream sundae machine, and retired to the sofa with the results.

At one point a skinny black guy wandered into the Cage, a look of glazed intent on his face. He gathered four cans from the Red Bull cabinet before heading back the way he came.

‘Alright Duke?’ said Victor as he passed by them.

‘Wotcher Victor,’ said the guy, with the slightest flicker of attention to where they were sitting before disappearing again. He didn’t address, or even seem to see, Brad.

‘Is he ok?’

‘Oh yeah. Just pulling an all-nighter.’ He thought. ‘Actually, it might be his second in a row. He and Oregon are on a deadline. You kind of get into the zone. He’s fine.’

Brad settled back into the corner of the sofa, squirming to get comfortable against the strange blobs that seemed to be a part of it. He touched a finger to Victor’s forearm. ‘And are you ever in the zone like that?’

‘Not really. But I’ve stayed up with Everest a few times when he’s been working on something. Kept him going, like.’

‘You’re a good guy, Victor,’ he said with a smile, and got one in return. ‘Ok, so,’ he continued, ‘I know I’m gonna regret this probably-‘ Victor looked momentarily alarmed. ‘No! It’s ok. All I was gonna ask is, what exactly is it that you do here.’

‘Oh,’ Victor settled back against the sofa also. ‘Ok. Well, very very basically, what we do here, right, is we write code. For all the different projects and the algorithms they need – it all comes down to coding in the end, right?’

Brad smiled. ‘With you so far.’

‘Ok, so, all those lines of code have to be correct, yeah? Because if anything – in any of those lines – is wrong then it hits everything else potentially. Because computers can only do what you tell them. With the lines of code you give them. And so one small glitch here,' he gestured, 'can affect the entire outcome.’

‘Like… following a recipe?’

‘Yeah! Exactly like that. And so we need to make sure that none of the lines are wrong. And that’s where I come in. Because, right, I’m QA and I support Everest, who’s also QA, _obviously_ , but like SRE within QA…’

He listened to Victor explain his work, but pretty soon lost track of what it involved, amongst the jargon and the acronyms. It didn’t matter. He gave up any attempt of trying to follow it, and was happy just to look at Victor as he spoke, the glow on his face as he described… something, the light in his eyes and the way he flicked his bangs out of the way when they fell into his face with an unconscious wrinkle of his nose, which sent a jolt of something through Brad every time he did it.

‘.. so you can see why, then..’

‘Oh, uh, yeah.’

Victor narrowed his eyes. ‘You haven’t been listening to a word I’ve been saying!’ he said accusingly.

‘I have,’ said Brad. ‘But it can get a tiny bit… esoteric, yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ Victor relented. ‘Fair enough.’ He sighed. ‘In any case, it’s probably all academic now. Everything was only really here for the AGI. Well that’s what me and Everest reckon anyway. And some of the others.’

‘The AGI?’

‘The secret project? On the top floor?’

‘Oh yeah that.’

Victor sat up and regarded him closely. ‘You know something don’t you?’

Fuck. He couldn’t lie. Well, he could, but he wasn’t going to. ‘I dunno, dude. Like you say, it’s all academic now anyway.’

‘Well then you can tell me, can’t you?’ said Victor reasonably. ‘Go on. You said earlier I had an honest face and you could trust me. Well you can.’

‘Dude, whatever I tell you will go straight to Everest.’

‘Of course it will,’ agreed Victor. ‘But he won’t say anything to anyone else, and neither will I. Honestly. You have my word on it.’ He held out his hand to Brad, who shook it, but didn’t let go. Victor didn’t seem to mind, so he kept hold of it.

‘Ok then.’ He blew out a breath. ‘Victor, I don’t really know how to say this. Um. Do you, uh, do you believe in ghosts?’

‘’Course,’ said Victor without hesitation.

‘Oh. Right. Ok, then. That makes things easier. Well basically, so far as it was told to me, the intelligence in the AGI – Deep Thought I think it was called – was actually - somehow, and don’t ask me how – the essence, like the personality, whatever of a ghost. No, two ghosts in fact.’

Victor sat stunned and silent for fully a minute, staring at Brad unseeingly. He was starting to think that maybe the revelation had been too much for him when he suddenly gave a shout of triumph, making Brad jump. ‘I fucking knew it!’ he crowed. ‘I _knew_ Skinner couldn’t have achieved a full AGI. I told Everest over and over.’ He suddenly sobered. ‘Oh shit!’ He looked at Brad worriedly. ‘What do I tell him?’

‘You can tell him what you like I guess. It hardly matters anymore. Or, you know, don’t tell him if you think it’s gonna mess him up some.’

‘Yeah,’ Victor nodded. ‘I’ll have a think about it.’ He shook his head wonderingly. ‘Fuck me though. All this time, everyone thought it was a new bloody dawn, and he’d just gone and integrated a bloody ghost into his IT architecture. Ha!’ he crowed again. ‘The ghost in the machine!’

‘Huh,’ Brad paused. ‘”The ghost in the machine,”’ he repeated. ‘Oh man! I only just got that!’

Victor regarded him indulgently and smiled. ‘Oh dear. It’s a good job you’re pretty.’

‘Yeah?’ Brad cocked his head to one side and leaned one shoulder against the sofa back, angling himself towards Victor. He still had a hold of his hand. ‘You think I’m pretty?’

Victor turned to mirror Brad’s position, and shuffled slightly closer to him. Brad noticed that he wasn’t blushing any more. ‘What do you think?’ he said.

‘I think,’ said Brad softly, leaning in, ‘that I’ve never seen a pair of eyes that shine quite as much as yours do.’

Victor snorted, but didn’t look displeased. ‘Pretty _and_ smooth,’ he said, leaning in a little himself.

‘Oh yeah,’ breathed Brad, his lips now a mere whisper away from Victor’s. ‘That’s me,’ and he closed the gap between them.

And this time Victor kissed him back. And it was wonderful. Like… like an orchestra coming into full swing on the first note.

  
After a while, they separated, and Victor settled back against Brad’s shoulder. In the dim light of the Cage, they chatted in low voices. Brad told Victor about his moms, and their crops and the farmers markets in Santa Cruz, and he pulled out his phone to show him pictures of Jean-Ralphio. Victor told him a little about his own childhood, about growing up on the edge of a different sea, with parents who were well-meaning and wanted to understand, but didn’t quite, not completely, and about finding certainty, and comfort, in lines and lines of numbers.

Twice more, different mice came into the Cage to extract something from the machines, each with the same absorbed look, and both times walked by without noticing them. Brad was warm, and relaxed, and starting to feel a little sleepy until he had a sudden thought.

‘Victor, dude! What time is it?’

Brad’s arm was around Victor, so he couldn’t see his own watch easily. Victor checked his. ‘Bloody hell. It’s nearly three.’

‘Oh shit. Sorry. Can you get a cab?’

‘Well, I could. But it’d cost thirty quid or so.’ He thought. ‘And I need to be back here by nine to meet Everest anyway.’ He shrugged. ‘I’ll crash here. It’s ok. Won’t be the first time.’

‘You sure?’

‘Yeah. I’ll text Everest to bring me a change of clothes. And there’s a machine in the loos with toothbrushes and stuff.’

Brad rolled his eyes. ‘Of course there is.’

Victor smiled, and put his chin on Brad’s shoulder. ‘It’s fine. Really. I don’t mind. I’ve had a really nice time.’

‘Cool. Me too. And you know, I would totally invite you to crash at my apartment – I mean, literally _just_ to crash - but, I’m guessing that’s not…’

‘No,’ Victor smiled gratefully. ‘But thanks.’

‘Ok, so. I’m gonna head then, ok? Let you get some rest. I’ll call you.’

‘Yeah, ok then.’ Victor smothered a yawn.

Brad grinned. ‘You know Victor, if I’m gonna leave, you’re gonna have to let go of me.’

‘Yeah, I know,’ said Victor, showing no signs of moving.

He began to extricate himself. ‘Dude, if I stay any longer, then you’re gonna be even more tired at work tomorrow. Today I mean,’ he corrected himself. ‘And Everest is gonna be even more pissed with me.’

Victor grinned at him. ‘Don't worry about Everest, he’ll be fine. He’s my friend. He wants me to be happy.’


End file.
